Lessons of Life, from Petunia EvansDursley
by libaka
Summary: Petunia learns a little from teaching a little. Better than it sounds. Please R&R!


Author's Note: Hey guys, I hope you enjoy the story! Please review, it will brighten my day. For my Kids Say the Darndest Things readers, I apologize for not undating. I am in the process of writing the next chapter, but a combination of college and writer's block is hindering me...

Anyways, this is an AU story, but still kinda sweet…

DISCLAIMER: The tale is based off of something from The Bean Trees, by Barbara Kingsolver. Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling. Otherwise, ze plot is MINE...

Now on with the Lessons of Life, from Petunia Evans-Dursley!

Petunia surveyed the table with blank eyes and a poker face firmly in place. She could only watch as her husband and beloved, though slightly overweight, son gobbled down egg rolls and chicken lo mein with overused but still usable forks and her slight nephew struggled to eat with unwieldy chopsticks that he had no idea how to use. He had already been yelled at for using his fingers to eat, but chopsticks were so hard to use! The five-year old bit his lower lip in concentration, and Petunia flinched slightly as her newly six-year old son belched and began laughing at the smaller boy.

"You're so _stupid_, Harry! Can't you see how to use them?" With that, Dudley laughed some more and swatted Harry's hand out of the way as Dudley snatched some food off of Harry's plate, ignoring Harry's plaintive protests of hunger.

"Now now, my boy. There is certainly enough food for you to eat on the platters. If you're still hungry, we can go out to ice cream after, all right?" Vernon laughed loudly, his stomach jiggling slightly in his amusement. He patted his son on the head lightly and said, "That's my boy. Always knows what he wants. You're going to grow up to be a great man, just like myself!"

Petunia sat quietly, watching as her son beamed up at his father and snatched another piece of food off of Harry's plate. Petunia shook her head at her son, and primly continued eating with her own chopsticks as if nothing bad had occurred. She struggled to ignore Harry, as he glanced around, clearly upset and hungry. He tried to see how the couple at the table next to him was using the chopsticks, but even though he mimicked the way they held the sticks, he couldn't pick any food up. Petunia watched silently as Harry sat back dejectedly and grabbed the packet the chopsticks had come in and carefully read over the instructions on how to use them on the back. Petunia paused and watched her nephew incredulously, not knowing before then that her nephew could even read, as she rarely paid attention to what he did when he got home from kindergarten and never read the report cards filled with glowing praises about Harry and his intelligence for such a young boy. She bit her lip as she realized that Harry was not going to ask any of them how to use the unwieldy utensils, because he had never had help from them before and did not know how to rely on others for help.

Suddenly, as Harry got more and more frustrated as he plucked one grain of rice at a time to eat, the table shook as if someone had stumbled into it and Dudley's glass tipped and the sweet, sticky juice inside of it flowed over the table and into Dudley's lap. Dudley screeched, and Vernon grabbed his napkin and began dabbing at the table and Dudley's front frantically as he growled, "Who did that?"

Petunia noticed Harry's eyes widen as he took in the drenched tablecloth and Dudley's wails, and she bet that he was thinking he'd get blamed for the innocent mess, as he usually was. She quickly spoke up. "It's my fault. I was crossing my legs and I must have hit the table harder than I thought. Vernon, take Dudley into the bathroom and get him cleaned up. I'll get the table cleaned up and order Dudley another drink."

Vernon quickly stood and lifted Dudley from his chair and carried the now sobbing boy into the men's bathroom. Petunia turned to Harry with one raised eyebrow and waited as he looked guiltily up at her. He winced and then hurriedly stammered, "I-it wasn't my fault! I d-didn't do anything!" He stared up at her, chopsticks forgotten as he silently begged her not to banish him to his cupboard for another week without food.

Petunia sighed, and then waved the waitress over to ask for another glass of juice and that the table be cleaned. Nodding quickly, the plump waitress waddled away after she patted Harry on the head. Turning to her nephew, Petunia bit her lip and struggled internally before falling victim to his puppy eyes and sighing again. She scooted her chair over towards Harry's, whose eyes widened even more and body tensed up, as if completely ready to take off in a sprint. Petunia wondered what this story might teach him: how to use chopsticks, or how to ask for help.

Getting as comfortable as she could get, Petunia looked down at her nephew and said quietly, "Harry, let me tell you a story I once read." At his cautious nod of assent, she continued, every now and then glancing back up to see if Dudley and Vernon were coming back. "It's a story that is about heaven and hell okay?" She smothered her smile when Harry's mouth formed a small O at her use of the forbidden h-e-double-hockey sticks word. "If you go to visit hell, you will see a room much like our kitchen at home. There is a pot of wonderful smelling, mouth-watering stew in the middle of the table and a delicate aroma fills the entire room. All around the table, people sit, just like we are now. Only, they are dying of starvation. Their tummies are rumbling like those icky motorcycle engines that drive down the street." Petunia paused as a small gurgling filled her ears. She glanced down at Harry and found him clutching his stomach, completely mortified at the noise it had made. She continued quietly. "These people are yowling and bellowing, whining and howling, but they simply cannot get a bite of this wonderful stew that has been given to them. Now, why is that Harry?"

Harry jumped when his name was mentioned, and Petunia realized he had been listening attentively to her, barely moving as he drank in the story like a man dying of thirst who has found water. He bit his lip nervously, looking around the room and whispered, "Are they choking? Paralyzed? O-or um…" He trailed off as he struggled to find the right answer, terrified that she would stop the story if he could not.

Petunia gave a tiny smile and said, "Good guess, but no. These people, these loud, demanding people, are starving for all eternity because they only have spoons with very long handles. As long as that mop in the back corner." She pointed to the corner, where a mop peeked out from behind a screen. Harry nodded, silently urging her to continue. "With those horrid spoons, the people in hell can reach into the pot of stew, but simply cannot get the food into their mouths. Oh, they are so hungry! They swear and curse at each other, calling one another all sorts of names and never getting along." She smiled down at the boy, enjoying the look of wonder on his face that she never got from her son when she told him a story.

"Now, you can go and visit heaven. Wait a minute! You see a room exactly like the first one, the same table, the same wonderful smelling pot of stew, the same atrocious spoons as long as a mop handle. But…these people, with large smiles on their faces, are all gloriously happy and well-fed."

Harry blurted out, "But that's im_possible_!" before he quickly covered his mouth with both hands, chopsticks lying forgotten beside his mostly full plate as he stared up at his aunt wide-eyed, ashamed at his outburst.

Petunia half-smiled, her eyes humor-filled—she was enjoying this. "These people are perfectly, magnificently well-fed and oh-so-very happy. Why do you think?"

With that, she reached out with her chopsticks, plucked a morsel of food off Harry's plate and reached out across the space between her nephew and herself to offer the food to the small boy. Smiling brilliantly, his peculiar green eyes glittering with happiness, he opened his mouth and welcomed the food, a small giggle escaping as he basked in the feel of food in his mouth. Chewing quickly, he swallowed with a loud gulp and whispered quietly, "Thank you, Aunt Petunia."

Smiling gently, Petunia reached out and fixed Harry's grip on the chopsticks, and helped him pinch a chunk of food between them and pop it into his mouth. The boy eagerly began shoveling food into his mouth, a small smile playing over his face as he satisfied his hunger.

Petunia smiled, and ruffled the boy's hair softly as she scooted her chair back to its original place, pleased with herself for once in the five years of taking care of the boy because she knew, finally, that she had done something right.

Author's Note:

please review! I hope you enjoyed the read!

Much love to all of you...


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